Pillow Talk
by Fair Cruelty
Summary: Instead of answering, he takes this opportunity to place his head in my lap and close his eyes. I freeze. What was this boy doing! You can’t just put your head in someone’s lap without permission, you know.
1. Meetings

**Pillow Talk**

_Chapter One: Meetings_

It was just a normal day. A day like any other. I wake up, wash, eat my breakfast and wait at the bus stop for the bus. I sit next to the window, away from the other kids and read my books or do my homework while listening to music. Well, I usually do, anyway.

I was on the bus, reading perfectly fine with earphones in my ears and bag on the seat next to me. Next thing I know I've been poked in the shoulder and mouthed something at. I take out an earphone at face the disturbance. A boy my age with short orange hair was smiling at me.

"Can I sit here?" He beamed at me again.

This was completely weird. But, the nice person I am, I take my bag off the seat and place it on the floor in front of me, clearing it for him. He sits, and I read again. Moments later, he pokes me again.

"Nani?" I hiss at him, annoyed now. I don't like to be annoyed first thing in the morning. It's hardly even light yet.

He blinks sleepily and tilts his head in a coy way, yawning. "Can I sleep on you?"

I pull out both earphones out of my ears, certain I had heard wrong. "Nani?! You want to ..." I stutter a bit. It's not exactly a question you get asked everyday. "Nande?"

Instead of answering, he takes this opportunity to place his head in my lap and close his eyes. I freeze. What was this boy doing?! You can't just put your head in someone's lap without permission, you know. Instead, I slow my breathing and give him a little tap on the shoulder.

No reaction.

A harder tap.

Still nothing.

Surely he hadn't fallen asleep in such a short amount of time? I sigh and retrieve my book. I find my eyes can't focus on the words and instead keep sliding to the boy's sleeping face. He looks so peaceful, so innocent. I sigh again and put my book down. I might as well take a nap now, since I won't be going anywhere anytime soon.

I close my eyes and lean my head against the cold glass of the window. Soon, we are both asleep.

--

I was woken simultaneously by a bell and a rough poke on my shoulder. I groan and crack open an eye. Everyone was filing out of the bus and the orange-haired boy was peering into my face, smiling crazily. So I did fall asleep. I pick up my bag and stand up, giving the boy a small smile for waking me up in time. "Arigatou," I mutter, pulling down my sleeves to cover my bare hands in the freezing air.

I have just noticed his uniform. He follows me to the school gate silently.

I try to strike up conversation. "So, you go to Hyoutei too, ne?"

He nods and smiles again. "Akutagawa Jirou desu. Dozo yoroshiku."

"Nagaseru Ayame desu, yoroshiku. You look familiar," I stated. He _did_ look familiar, I just didn't know where from. And then my eyes spotted the tennis bag on his shoulder. "Aha!" I cry, pointing at his bag. "You're Akutagawa-san from the tennis club!" The tennis club were famous in school, especially the regulars. All the girls fawned over them.

"Hai," he replies. "I'm a regular. You probably saw one of the matches. I play Singles 2."

I agree wordlessly. Usually I don't watch tennis matches. Atobe-san does my head in with his arrogance. I wouldn't want to be awed at the sight of his prowess if I was at gunpoint and tied to a stake with burning sticks under my feet. "Your buchou isn't my favourite person in the world, though." This was starting to be a pretty personal conversation.

"Ah, hai, he annoys people sometimes with his bragging. But you know, he's allowed to because he really is that good." He chuckles at my expression (a disgusted one, by the way) and looks away again. "You don't look like a san-nen to me. You're too innocent looking. What class are you in?"

I narrow my eyes at him. "You're not one of those stalker people are you?" I ignore the innocent comment.

He laughs. "No, don't worry. Just curious."

"Okay."

"I never thanked for the nice pillow you made back there." We had stopped at the gates. "So arigatou gozaimasu, Nagaseru-san."

I blush and look away, hiding my face with my hair. "You should ask people before you ... You know, sleep on them. Or at least wait for an answer."

"I'll try to remember next time, but I just get so tired sometimes." He laughs again and holds out his gloved hand. "Come on or we'll be late."

"Ano ... h-hai." I take the offered hand and we run in together.

_**Owari**_

_A/N: Kekeke First PoT fanfic! As you can probably tell, I'm obsessed with Jirou. He's just SO CUTE. Anyhow, hope you enjoy. Review dozo!_


	2. Greetings?

**Disclaimer: **Because I forgot last chapter. TnO is not mine, although I often wish it was. Shame, but thanks anyway, Konomi-sama. 3

**Pillow Talk**

Chapter 2: Greetings?

It happened again. And again. I didn't really mind. It was almost like a habit now. I would get on the bus; he would get on a few stops later; and then he would sleep on me. I guess many would think it strange that I was letting a practical stranger sleep on me everyday. I didn't. Not anymore. It's not that there was anything between us. Because there never will be. We hardly even speak to each other. We weren't even friends. I was just his pillow, twice a day: that was it. Nothing more, nothing less. I wouldn't want to be anything more either. Just me and him: pillow and ... sleeper?

Sensei is calling on me again. I don't think he likes me very much, so I stand up, answer the question and sit back down. Fortunately, the bell rings at that moment and we all put our books away. Finally, lunch time. Kotarou is beckoning. I grab by obento and take the recently vacated seat next to him. He leans over and kisses me inconspicuously on the cheek and I blush. I'm glad he's back.

I glare and hiss, "Kotarou ..." warningly, although I'm smiling. He grabs my hand, laughing, leading me out of the door.

"Let's go Aya-chan, I really missed your lunches." We arrive at our special tree, ready to eat the special bento I had made that morning, but someone was already there.

"Akutagawa-san!" I cry, rushing forward. He doesn't move. I bend down and poke him in the shoulder but he keeps on sleeping.

"You know this guy?" Kotarou looks amused, which I am glad. He gets jealous easily. I shrug and tell him that we go on the same bus. He seems okay with it. As we leave for another place, I swear I see Akutagawa-san's eyes open for a second, but then they are closed again and he is asleep.

--

I wonder what Akutagawa-san dreams of when he sleeps. Surely someone who sleeps so much ... he must have dreams. This time it's different though. Usually he's calm and peaceful, innocence on his face while he sleeps. He's frowning and clenching his fists and twitching. I'm tempted to wake him up so he doesn't look so angry anymore, but that would be mean so I won't. He really doesn't look very happy. Is this about tennis? I should stop prying onto other people's business. Instead, I shift so it is more comfortable and pull my hair out of the braids, sighing. A lock of hair falls into Akutagawa-san's face and I move to brush it out of the way when his fist unclenches and grabs hold of it. I freeze and try to pull it out of his grasp but it hurts so I stop. He looks a little more relaxed now though so I guess I'll let him. It won't hurt.

--

I think I'm in trouble. Atobe-san and Oshitari-san from the tennis club are trying to kill me with their eyes. I'm glad Kotarou hasn't noticed because they're both bigger than him and I don't think he'll win if he starts a fight. Is this because of the time I accidentally knocked over their ball basket and made them stop practice for twenty minutes while they picket the balls up? But that was last year ... Oh no, they're coming.

"Are you Ayame?" Oh my, the great Atobe speaks!

I nod, wondering what this is about and why asked with my first name. We're not secretly cousins or something, are we?

"And do you know Jirou by any chance?" Oshitari-san is being much nicer. I think.

"Jirou? You mean Akutagawa-san?"

Atobe-san rolls his eyes. "Yes, yes, just answer the damn question properly."

I don't like Atobe. "Yes ... What about it?"

He leans his face in close to mine (which is considerably lower than his) and says, "He's not playing properly. Go and talk to him." By the way he was talking, I'd would have thought he'd died or something.

Next thing I know, I'm being frog-marched to the tennis courts where the rest of the regulars are trying to wake Akutagawa-san up. Once I am free of their grasp, I take a few steps away and face the annoyed (and annoying) buchou who is looking down at me like some dirt on his oh-so-clean and polished shoes.

"Why am I here? He's in _your_ tennis club!" I half yell at him. I don't usually yell at people. Especially not my senpais because I could get in serious trouble. But Atobe-san looks like he's more concerned about his Singles 2 player.

"Well," he begins slowly. "It's not _my_ name he's been muttering, is it?"

_**Owari**_

_A/N: Thanks to all who reviewed! I love you all, seriously. Also thanks to runningondreams for the constructive criticism, I hope this chapter is to your liking. It sort of looks like it's going to be clichéd but I swear it's not, okay?_

_Thanks again 3 Review!_


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